


Wolf Descendants (in 3 Scenes)

by mute90



Series: Sterek Week '18 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Descendants (Disney Movies) Fusion, Erica Reyes - Freeform, Idiots in Love, Isaac Lahey - Freeform, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Sterek Week 2018, UST, Vernon Boyd - Freeform, some allison argent, some scott mccall, sterekscene4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 22:03:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16463177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mute90/pseuds/mute90
Summary: Derek Hale arrives at Auradon Prep with his pack, makes Stiles eat a magic cookie, and begins to question his life decisions.





	Wolf Descendants (in 3 Scenes)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sterek Week 2018: Scene Stealer. 
> 
> Stiles and Derek (and other Teen Wolf characters) are in the world of Disney's Descendants. Derek is meant to be school-aged here.

**Arrival**

The first glimpse Auradon had of the Isle kids was when the limo driver opened a door and two blondes tumbled onto the ground. They rolled and wrestled, ignoring their audience. The boy ended up on bottom. The girl shoved her knee into his stomach, perilously close to something farther south.

“You know I had it first!” the boy cried out.

“Yeah, but I’ll have it last,” the girl purred right into his face.

Stiles had done his research the minute Scott declared he was inviting the villain kids to freely roam the kingdom. The boy was Isaac Lahey. His father lured children to a pretty swanky house in the woods and drowned them there. The girl was Erica Reyes. Her mother was a witch who stole the youth and vitality of others to keep herself and her sickly child alive and pretty. The third person climbing out of the limo and calmly lifting Erica up by her waist was Vernon Boyd. His mother was an elemental who brought a small ice age that accidentally killed her own daughter. The final person, the one who lifted Isaac off the ground by his collar, was Derek Hale.

The Alpha.

His uncle had been the alpha until, from all accounts, Derek ripped the power out of him via his throat. It wasn’t any great loss. In fact, some viewed it as a lucky deed if not a good one. Peter Hale terrorized the kingdom and attacked the Crown Prince before he and what was left of his family were banished to the Isle of the Lost.

“Put it back,” Hale said, so low that Stiles had to read his lips to get the gist of it.

Isaac walked swiftly to the limo and tossed something on the seat - was that a tv screen?

Deaton - the royal godfather, as Stiles called him - cleared his throat and looked to Scott.

“Welcome to Auradon!” Scott called out, nervous but earnest. He and Allison glided forward, a united front of goodwill and hidden weaponry. He held out a hand to each of the newcomers and talked as he went. “I’m Scott. I’m glad you’re all here. This is the first I’ve met anyone from the Isle of the Lost. I hope it’s not the last. I’ve heard...things about you all.” He finished that very lamely, and tried to save it with, “You sounded interesting.”

Allison, however, was amazing backup. “New blood and new ways only teach us more and make us wiser.” When she got to Erica, the girl very obviously curled her fingers and dug her long nails into Allison’s skin. Allison didn’t flinch, but narrowed her eyes. “And stronger, of course.”

Scott caught the danger signs in Allison’s voice and captured her hand. She still had one hand to reach for her knives, but the danger was at least halved. “You just met Allison Argent,” said Scott. “And uh…” Stiles had stupidly wandered forward, curious. He tried to step back when Scott’s searching eyes fell on him, but he moved too slow. Scott yanked him forward. “And this is Stiles Stilinski. He’s a good friend of mine.”

“Best,” Stiles corrected.

Scott smiled. “Best friend.”

“Stilinski,” Hale repeated. “Isn’t that The Sheriff?”

“My dad,” said Stiles. “So, you know, if you’re thinking of killing me: he will be on your ass.” Scott elbowed him. “Just saying.”

“I guess I’ll have to make it look like an accident,” Hale said, eyes traveling over the school grounds and possibly finding every area where Stiles could ‘accidentally’ meet his end.

“I like that,” said Stiles, nodding. He’d rather it wasn’t his dead body they were talking about, but the people in Auradon were always so lazy when they did bad things. They banished all the quality bad guys, and there was no mystery anymore. “I say if you’re going to commit a crime, at least be smart about it.”

Hale looked at him then. His face was unnervingly blank. “I like smart.”

 

**The Cookie**

Erica held the magical cookies, and she wiggled them under Stiles’ nose like a treat. “Want some?” she asked.

“No,” he answered, not even glancing down at the bag. He kept his eyes on her face and occasionally her wickedly sharp nails.

Derek clenched his jaw. This is why he hadn't wanted Stilinski. Most of Auradon Prep was afraid of them, but Stiles Stilinski was wary - stubbornly, unhelpfully wary. A simply scared person could be bullied. A wary person was a pain in the ass.

“Just eat a damn cookie,” Boyd ordered.

“Still no.”

“Eat it before we shove it down your throat,” said Isaac, stepping forward and crowding Stiles back against the locker.

“Shockingly, I'm feeling less and less comfortable with this cookie situation.”

“Back off, Isaac,” Derek said, approaching himself. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t assure Stiles at all and he tensed further.

Honestly, it would have been a lot easier to dose one of the others with a love potion, but Prince Scott had a small circle of friends. He and Allison Argent hung off each other’s lips and words in nausea-inducing ways. Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin could be found bickering in every hall, but they were always together. Abrupt changes in those relationship would just bring suspicion on all of them. It had to be single, loveless Stiles. He drew the short straw and didn’t even know it.

Derek put a hand on the locker beside Stiles head and leaned in close.

“Personal space,” Stiles said, voice high. “Maybe they don’t have that on the Isle but, here in Auradon, we like at least three feet of space. Or ten. I’d take ten right now.”

Derek chuckled. “What’s wrong, Stiles? Are you afraid of the big, bad wolf?” he mocked.

Stiles huffed. “Maybe it’s just your breath. You ever think of that?”

Derek reached back with his other hand, and Erica placed a cookie in his hand. He brought it up to rest on Stiles’ lower lip.

“Not hungry,” said Stiles, moving his lips as little as possible.

“Hmmm.” Derek leaned in further, looking Stiles in the eye and smiling wickedly. “I am.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open just another inch. Shock, alarm… Whatever it was, it was enough space for Derek to slide the cookie past his lips. He let his eyes burn red and his wolf reign as he ordered, “Eat.” Stiles bit down on the cookie, chewed three times, and swallowed dutifully.

Derek watched him relax, heard his heartbeat slow, and then heard it quicken again. It was almost alarming how it galloped in his chest as he leaned sideways into Derek’s arms. “That was a really good cookie,” he said. He smiled softly at Derek. “Did you make it?”

Isaac laughed behind him. Erica crowded in closer. Boyd caught them both by the arm and tugged them back before Derek could growl.

Derek looked at Stiles’ dopey, eager smile and felt his stomach churn.

 

**The Enchanted Lake**

_They doped him!_

That was Stiles’ sole thought as he kicked to the surface. He came up for air in a corner of the lake shaded by hanging leaves and covered on one side by large rocks. He wanted to smash the rocks and burn the tree, but that was no way to thank the enchanted lake that cured him of the cookie whammy.

“Stiles?” he heard Derek call out. He stood where he was, fuming. “Stiles?” he heard again.

He lifted a middle finger in Derek’s general direction.

“Stiles!”

A few seconds later, there was a splash. That transformed into a series of splashes and cursing. Then, there was sputtering and gasping. Stiles swam out of his alcove and saw Derek’s head drop under the water. He flailed and resurfaced for a moment before dropping again. Confused, Stiles swam closer. Derek didn’t come back up though. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, and dived beneath the water.

He caught Derek by the front of his shirt and yanked him upward. He got an arm around his chest and kicked hard until they both burst out of the water, gasping. Slowly, he worked his way back toward solid ground. “How much do you weigh?” he said.

“Would you just shut up and get me out of here!” said Derek.

“I thought dogs could swim.”

“Stiles! Shut. Up.”

They reached the pier, and Derek hoisted himself up. Stiles followed. He had his knees on solid wood before Derek turned and shoved him hard. He fell backward into the lake. He kicked out - again - and spit out water. “What the hell was that for?!”

“You didn’t come back up, you idiot!” Derek snarled.

Stiles thought about climbing back onto the pier but figured that would just get him another good shove. Instead, he studied Derek’s furious face. It was ruined a little by the fact he was soaking wet, his hair still dripping and sending water running into his eyes. “Wait a minute,” said Stiles, realization coming slow. “Were you trying to save me?”

“If you drowned out here, they’d blame me,” he answered swiftly.

Stiles pointed up at him. “You’re the one who can’t swim, remember? You can’t swim, right?”

Derek scoffed. “There’s no time to swim on the Isle and nowhere that’s safe to swim.”

Stiles stared. The big, bad wolf couldn’t swim. The guy who doped him nearly drowned trying to save his life like a big dummy. Stiles had tried to kiss him twice on the way out to the lake, and Derek had clapped a hand over his mouth and gently put some distance between them. “You were still trying to rescue me like I was the damsel in distress,” said Stiles slowly. Derek growled. He turned away and started peeling off his wet shirt. Stiles pushed on with increasing realization and delight, “But you were the real damsel. You realize that, don’t you? You were in distress. I heroically risked my life to save you from sea monsters.”

Derek, shirtless and in disbelief, turned back to him. “There were no ‘sea monsters.’”

“That’s not how I’m going to tell the story.”

Derek’s wet shirt hit him in the face

Well, that was unnecessary. Stiles tossed the shirt aside, it sank slowly, and he swore he was not retrieving that from the water. Instead, he finally deemed it safe to climb back onto the pier and roll himself like a burrito in the picnic blanket. Derek sat in a sunny patch a few feet away. There was a twisted and evil plan in place, Stiles was sure. That was the only reason to whammy someone with chocolate chip cookies. However, with Derek shirtless and shoeless on the pier after an embarrassing attempt to save his life, Stiles found his anger and offense had dimmed.

He squinted at Derek. “You know, I think I declared my undying love to you yesterday.”

Derek looked out over the lake and didn’t answer.

Stiles whistled for his attention. “Anything to say? Here. I’ll help you out. ‘Stiles, you warm my cold heart. You’re hotter than an oven at 420. Your brain is even bigger than Jackson’s ego. Your ass deserves it’s own epic poetry. I’d like to lick the lake water off your -.’”

Derek let out one surprised bark of laughter. “Please stop.”

“Give me something to work with,” he begged.

Derek kept looking away. “I like smart,” he said. “I like clever, confident, and tough. I like people who talk too much because I hate trying to read everyone’s minds. I guess that means I like you.”

“But you don’t love me,” said Stiles, drawing his voice out into a whine.

Derek’s face scrunched up into something bitter and disgusted. “You don’t really love me either.”

Stiles thought about that. Without the cookie, the truth was that he didn’t feel love. He did feel attraction because Derek was great on the eyes. He felt comforted because the guy had tried to save his life and revealed himself to be an epic disaster. He even still felt a warm satisfaction when he remembered Derek’s awe at the first sight of the lake. Sighing, Stiles shifted until he could curl his knees into his chest.

Derek finally looked at him, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the fetal burrito Stiles had turned himself into. “Are you really cold?” he asked.

“This isn’t the best weather for swimming here,” explained Stiles. “I guess I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Derek’s eyes shot away from his face at that, his expression tightening. He got up, padded across the pier, and picked his leather jacket up. He laid it over Stiles, the collar landing just below Stiles’ nose. He patted Stiles’ shoulder awkwardly and then returned to his position in the sun.

Stiles tried to remember to beware the evil plan. Unfortunately, he was breathing in the scent of leather, and Derek was distracting him by staring down at his hands like he could find answers in the creases. Judging by his confused expression, the answers weren’t there.

Good. At least both of them were confused.


End file.
